Parental
by HeartofInk22500
Summary: I'm so impatient when it comes to waiting for new episodes, so I'm making my own idea. Based on the upcoming episode "Sinking" (I think that it's title). And sorry if this seems OOC on anyone's part- it's a brand new series so it's a little hard to know everything about their personality. And it's rated T because Tate gets beat up and there's ONE swear word.


**Wow, something other than Wicked? Huh… well, anyway. While I had time today I decided to write a story for my new favorite show, "Believe". I guess in anticipation for the new episode (Episode 6, BTW) I wrote my own little bit on how I thought it might go. Oh well… enjoy!**

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own anyone on Believe, nor do I make any claims.**

"Tate!"

He tuned in to the voice—that_ scream_ of fear—as he had got clocked in the face for the eighth time. Or was it the ninth? He wasn't really sure anymore, it was all going too fast and his head was pounding like a drum.

"Tate, look out!"

And, there's the tenth punch. Or was it the eleventh? Or ninth… oh forget counting, just punch him back. Tate swung his fist at the man who had ruined seven years of his life, but it was pointless as all he did was knock himself off balance, while the other male kicked him in the ribs as soon as he was down. Tate bit back a scream—for some reason having Bo there made him fight to hide his pain.

"Stop it!"

He felt another kick as he tumbled onto his stomach—his arms wobbling as he attempted to get up.

"Stop!"

There was a stomp on his back and he fell right back down. His vision started to blur, although he could tell that his old friend was approaching him. Tate heard Bo starting to cry—part of him just wanted to her leave so he could stop trying to hide his pain, and the other part was dying inside at her distress.

"_Stop!_"

There was a loud crash as the man in front of him was suddenly blasted out of his sight. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a groan. "Tate? _Tate?_"

He struggled to prop himself up on his elbows—it was excruciating, but if it would get Bo to stop screaming and making his headache worse, he could deal with it.

"Bo…?"

She was whispering now, her voice shaking, "Yeah?" He blinked softly, staggering to his feet, "Why are you here?"

"You were in danger," she replied. He groaned, "But how'd you know where to find me? You took that tracker off…"

"I just know things sometimes… glad I did know, though." Tate just chuckled, holding back to cough that threatened to follow, "Yeah, I'm glad too…"

"What the hell was that?"

Despite the pain still surging through his body, he pulled Bo behind him, one arm holding her and the other balled into a loose fist, watching the man stumble to his feet and approach them. Tate couldn't help but blink… why was he being so protective over her? Normally if they were being threatened or in danger, and he was too injured to fight, he'd just run. But no—he wasn't backing down like his brain screamed for him to, as if he felt a strong need to keep her safe.

It was _so _weird.

"Back off," Tate snarled, although it wasn't until he tried to sound strong that he realized just how much energy had been sapped. He only said two words and it was_ already_ hard to breathe again. "Was I talking to you?" the man sneered, "I was talking to the little brat over there… how'd you do that?" Tate pulled Bo closer, still unsure of this new feeling of wanting… no, _needing_ to keep her safe. "Tate, run," Bo whispered, tugging on his hand, but he didn't budge. Tate just growled, "You don't need to know. I'm warning you, back off."

"Or what? What could _you_ possibly do?"

Tate didn't respond.

"Exactly," he spat, approaching them. He was too close for comfort, but Tate didn't want to back down. When he and Tate were now face to face, the escapee prepared to punch—although he didn't get time before the man grabbed Bo's arm. Her whimper as he yanked her off balance made Tate's blood boil. "I won't ask again," he yelled, "how did you—,"

In a flash Tate had lunged at the man who framed him, his fists raining down on his skull until the man was down. "It's none of your concern—she's not your problem, but I will be if you touch her again!" He kicked the man in the side, just as he had done earlier. Pain was radiating and his body was screaming for him to stop, but despite his trembling he gripped the man by the collar, "Go near Bo again, and the next time I'm on death row for murder I can assure you I won't be innocent. Do you understand?"

Tate geared up to punch him again, but smaller hands grabbed his fists as Bo just stammered, "Tate, don't!" The words were so choked out, he froze. "Please… just stop. You've made your point… and you're scaring me."

A flurry of emotions ran through him—anger, sadness, fear—all of them clouded his mind. The pain that seemed so non-existent when he started the beat down came back to him as well, and the numbness in his fingertips returned as he was forced to let go of the other man.

"Tate…?"

When Bo said his name that time, he turned around and grabbed her hand, growling out, "C'mon!"

"But what about—?"

"Just follow me, kid," he groaned, dragging her along. He was so torn—he didn't like kids at all, and Bo was definitely one of the worst when it came to keeping her under control, but when his former friend had even an opportunity to be a danger to Bo, he couldn't bear to leave that hanging.

What was it about this child that made him so… parental?


End file.
